So, the consensus after consulting three different doctors is that the implant that was surgically placed next to my vocal cord moved; and probably within hours, if not minutes, of the surgery. So, it must be revised. The minute all the decision making was over, anxiety started creeping up my neck like a bad case of poison ivy. I was all peace and confidence before, but as soon as it became a scheduled reality, fear started spreading. There are illogical fears; things that may never happen, and then there are the soon to happen fears. I 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 have another surgery. I 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 be awakened during surgery and asked to make some important decisions. It 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 hurt. It 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 be uncomfortable. And I 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 have to do it by myself.
I’m starting to think that a measure of anxiety is common to the human condition. I don’t know anyone that hasn’t delt with it in some form and at some point. I think this is in part because we weren’t created to know pain, rejection, disappointment, or fear. We were created in perfection and meant for perfection. We chose the tree of knowledge and evil now weighs heavy on our imperfect bodies. I think that’s why the Bible tells us: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” God knew we’d have anxiety. He knew He was the only cure. He knew that prayer would pull us close to Him and thanksgiving would soothe our minds.
Life is simply too heavy for a man or woman to carry themself. The disappointment is too abundant. The anxiety too burdensome. The work is too constant. The fatigue is too forthcoming. The pain too cumbersome. The weight of it all is fundamentally just too much. We all need a benefactor more able, stouter, and sturdier than all of our limitations. We all need a champion who never tires of us. We all need a sentry protecting…watching…guarding what’s most valuable. We all need a love so strong that it’s compelled to step into a debtor’s prison…into the filth of it, the oppression of it, the shame of it…take us proudly by the hand and lead us out. We all need a father that isn’t embarrassed to be seen with us even when we still wear the evidence of our guilt.
We all need Jesus. He is all we could never be for ourselves and all we could ever need. To look into the heart of that man is to see hope, to see purpose, and to see perfection. It’s to see love in its purest form, surpassing any understanding we’ve ever known. It’s the only cure for what ails us all. He’s the only one powerful enough to bear the weights of the world. The lengths we go to trying to carry it on our own derail us, cripple us, and enslave us. He offers abundant life, and we are too often content with chains and scraps. He’s so near, not even our own breath is closer. And yet we remain as far as the distance we keep between us. But here’s the thing about Jesus, that distance can close at the speed of His name on our lips. Before we even finish forming the word, He is here. Because He never left.
Anxiety is a seed form of fear, and it’s the nemesis of faith. It steals the peace that God wants us to have. Peace is a powerful weapon. God has not given us a spirit of fear. There 𝘪𝘴 a war taking place. There 𝘪𝘴 an enemy that opposes the peace of God. I’m determined not to lose my peace in surgery this time around. I asked the doctor if my husband could come into the operating room to help me make the hard decisions and the answer was no. That took my last grasp at earthly comfort away. I immediately heard the Holy Spirit whisper, “I’ll be there.”
My Watchman was, is, and will be present. I’m trading my anxiety for peace knowing that my Deliverer will use it to guard my mind and my heart. I’m giving my anxiety to Him because His shoulders are broader. He is more competent, and I know He does what He says He’ll do. My prayers, petitions, and thanksgiving will be my act of war over what seeks to make me anxious. I don’t need to understand it all because He does. I will ride His coattail all the way into the operating room, trusting that He will fill the space with a peace beyond all I could ever hope to comprehend. No other god can take anxiety and replace it with something so transcendent. Only Jesus can do that.